Motor Oil Rainbows
by Inigeshi
Summary: Having an orgasm and keeping a motorcycle upright is hard as hell. I’ll tell you that Sirius/motorcycle, Sirius/Remus
1. Prelude

**Title: **  
Motor Oil Rainbows

**Summary: **  
AU (like most of my fics)  
She purrs under me whenever I straddle her and I almost crashed her twice because the speed, vibration and adrenaline rush got me off. Having an orgasm and keeping a motorcycle upright is hard as hell. I'll tell you that  
Sirius/Remus

**Disclaimer and Notes:**  
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**  
Warnings:**_  
_Slash, Cross dressing, and other things to be added._  
ps this has never been seen by a beta. as i said it was going to be scrapped.  
___

**Notes**

Okay so this is one of my seven failed **rs_games** fic entries. This was one of my favorites though and i just couldn't bear to delete it so i figure continue it until its sone or just share what i have. I have a few parts done already but I wont post them all at once (sorry). __

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_Let us being: _

Prelude: 

James watched in silent fascination as Sirius expertly applied layer after layer of fine powder to his face. Sure, when he was younger he watched his mother and aunts do the same, but this was different. Sirius was male. Granted he was a very pretty male --with no facial hair (hair never grew on his face or chest or arms) and his jaw was as defined as his mother's-- but male nonetheless.

"You look just like one of my mother's dolls." James grumbled from the bed. His eyes trained on the half dressed boy at the vanity across the room.

Sirius squeezed the eyelash curler tightly before pulling it away from his face and inspecting his reflection. "Shut up, I need to concentrate."

It seemed so odd but then again he should have been used to it by now. Sirius had never abided by society's ideas of gender, or common sense for that matter. The end result of all that primping was stunning, so why should Sirius' girl days rock him.

"So, what are you getting today?"

Sirius tuned to his best friend with a bright smile. Sirius chattered obviously keyed up about this present of his. The cool gray eyes of his cousin were surrounded by streaks of smoky grays and pastel purple. Giving his heavy lidded --Sirius called them forever bedroom-- eyes more depth. The smooth milk white skin of his cheeks was tinted pink with powder and his naturally pink lips were covered up with a plum lipstick glossed over with Vaseline.

"So prongs? Will you drive me to the dealership?" the younger teen threaded a black leather strip around the mass of curly hair before tying it off and shoving glittery decorative combs into the messy bun.

"You know I'm going to."

"Good. Because I called them and told them I'd be there in an hour." Sirius pulled an obscenely small black and white tartan skirt from the pile of clothes on the desk chair and wrapped it around his body and zipping it up.

"Sirius, is all of this really necessary? I mean were going to the dealership not a party."

"It's the details that count prongs. I promise you if I don't get a few dollars off with the salesman I'll fill your tank for a month." The pseudo girl slipped a pair of plum colored legwarmers on before shoving his dainty purple painted pedicure feet in to a pair of six inch black patent leather pumps and shrugging on a plum jacket. "I'm ready lets go."

"Padfoot. I'm going to die old and alone because of you, you know that?"

---


	2. Chapter 01

Chapter One:

Today's Sunday and I'm not home. I couldn't be happier. Sundays are my least favorite day. Aside from the impending sense of doom (read: Monday) lingers for the whole day, family dinners are on Sundays.

Ah a family dinner, what a joyous occasion.

If I were there I'd be stuck besides my brother, watching my mother do her best to get my father to go through with a divorce. Lately it seems like she may actually get him to the seriously consider it.

I mean one would think the distant family, my fathers obsession with Botox, constant streams of my father's conquest, my mothers demolition of those poor women's lives, my mothers addiction to her personal trainer, nannies and maids and all other desirable uniformed women on staff and general unhappiness that they would get a divorce, right?

Wrong.

The Black investment firm would be split in half and half of the company goes to my mother. So he'd rather just stick it out and fight every time they see one another and put on a perfect play face in public.

Ah the public.

Their adoring public sees a loving set of parents; a successful handsome investment banker, his lovely supermodel wife and their two happy sons. Who all live in a gigantic manner and take trips to exotic places and throw high society functions that put the Malfoy's of France to shame.

When I see the two of them together I always think, wow what the fuck ever possessed these two to have kids. Then I look at my little brother and think, poor baby.

When I'm there it doesn't take long for me to zone out. All I have to think of is my bike. The Triumph Bonneville I had had customized and detailed. My first true love, my goddess, my scarlet lady, God she's wonderful.

She purrs under me whenever I straddle her and I almost crashed her twice because the speed, vibration and adrenaline rush got me off. Having an orgasm and keeping a motorcycle upright is hard as hell. I'll tell you that.

God she was sweet absolutely lovely. The paint job was custom, a mix of candy apple and wine that shines in the sun, and chrome pieces that have been buffed and polished until the gleam's visible at a hundred paces.

She rides like a dream over the pavement and whenever I ride her I turn heads. The girls tripping over themselves to get at me and so are the boys.

When I dressed like a girl I put on a show in public places. Short skirts and frilled panties so that when I buck my hips and grind into the leather seat while panting and moaning you catch just a little glimpse of lace and skin. When I was dressed like a man I was every girl's wet dream and had fucks cued up and waiting for me.

I'm merciless, the men I leave behind are desperately trying to hide their stiffs and the women were rubbing their thighs together so hard I think they'll get rug burn or glaring at me.

Those looks get me off. They want me and I know it, the power of that mixed with the sensations from my bike just do it for me.

If I'm honest I have to say that the connection between my cock and my lady was the reason I got it together. Hell it's the reason for everything that means anything anymore.


	3. Chapter 02

Chapter Two:

It was late and mum and I just had a row over my classes. I wanted to take Physics and German and she wanted me to take Latin and government. My goals were so different then the ones she set for me. She wanted a lawyer or banker for a son. I didn't want either of those.

"Do not be ridiculous! Hogwarts is the best high school for you to be in for law. I didn't gain sixty pounds and spend all this money for you to throw away your life on mediocrity."

"Mother you're hardly one hundred and twenty! What sixty pounds!?"

"When I as pregnant you ungrateful little fuck!" She snapped at me, one hand holding my jaw in a twisted parody of tender touch. The woman was crazy as hell but she never really hurt me, sometimes I even entertain the idea that she loves me. She stroked my hair running her fingers through it with that odd tightlipped smile of hers and sighed. "You're a beautiful child Sirius. I made damn sure of it. But that face of yours will only get you but so far."

"If it gets me as far as it got you I think I'll be alright. Don't you, mummy?" Her burgundy nails tapped soft line of my jaw, she was just itching to slap me. She wont, but she wants too.

" Take the classes, I expect you to be looking into law schools, applying to the right one is important." She pressed her lips against mine briefly. That peck meant many things at once, the first being that the discussion was over, the second was that she'd punish me if I pushed the issue. I'll have you know that I was never one to shy away from a challenge or a bit of discomfort.

"Mother! I wont--"

"Yes you are completely correct, you won't talk back to me." Her hand dropped and she took a step away from me. "I'm calling your school councilor and arranging the classes. You're not of age yet so I can still have you put in those classes."

"I wont go!"

"You will if you enjoy your life style." Mother turned, her pretty face pale and closed off, her gray eyes staring straight through me. It was odd like looking in a mirror. We are nearly identical and it upsets me. I wished for once that I had my father's broad build that Regulus doubtlessly will inherit. "As of this moment all of your cards are being cancelled your accounts frozen and your car confiscated."

"That's unreasonable!"

"That is what will be until you are brining home decent grades in Latin and government. When I see eighty-five in both courses you may have your car back. And when you are enrolled in a law school you may have your cards and accounts back as well." She spun on her heel and walked away. The clicking of her sling-backs on the hard wood was all I could register.

I was tired, just fed up with my situation and this stranger who was masquerading as my mother.

She wasn't so cold and impersonal before.

Before, when it was just she and I, we were happy.

Father was never home and I was never out of mothers sight. She'd sit me on her bed and we look through books, magazines and the boxes upon boxes of family heirlooms she'd received after her father's death. Sometimes I'd be pulled into her lap and she would read to me from old leather bound books that held more tales than human memory. Other times she would dress up and strut around the room with a radiant smile in heels and whatever vintage dress and jewelry she had found in the closets of abandoned rooms or the trunks in the attics.

My early childhood was filled with exploration, dress up, afternoon, zoo visits, lunches out by the pond on the property and my mother's warm hand around my own as we paraded through the streets our heads held high because we were blacks, Our wealth was envied dour blood was as blue as the ocean and our beauty was legendary.

Somewhere along the line, things changed. The mother I knew was no more. All of the sudden I was stuck with this hurtful, spiteful bitch and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

This stranger modeled after my mother—I never knew how to handle her. I'm rather glad I never found out how to either. Understanding how her mind works means I'd have to think like she does.

Biggest no-go ever.

Well, anyhow, I was so aggravated that I couldn't stand to be in the same house as her for another minute. So I went to the garage, got on my bike and did ninety from the driveway to the freeway.

God! That ride was worth all of the frustration, the eight years of careful saving of my spending and birthday money, and setting James up with the girl behind the counter at the dealership to get at her employee discount.

The ride was fast. Everything blurred past me and the wind struck my face and made it hard to breathe. My hair was streaming out behind me just like the straps of my German. I was hard as a rock and felt every turn of the wheels, bump of the pavement and wind of the road. The seat between my thighs rumbling was just heavenly.

I gripped the handles tightly and I felt my breathing become even shallower and my eyes flutter. I ground heavily into the seat of the bike loving the pulses it offered me.

When I came it was hard and blinding.

Just like the headlights of the SUV that slammed into the side of my Baby.

I heard the wheels screech, fiberglass shatter and metal crumple, the burnt rubber smell permeated the air and I flew over the guardrail. I remember wondering how pissed James would be if I called him while he was out on his date with the girl from the dealership.

Turns out he was pretty damn pissed.

He drove up in his truck with the red head still in the car and a scowl on his face. When I looked closer at the girl I realized her blouse was buttoned up wrong and her zipper was still open.

I never felt so loved in my life.


End file.
